“Please,” I said quietly.
It didn’t sway him right away.
“Lacey, my daughter … she has cancer. Did you know that?” My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard to stop the hot pressure rising in my throat.
He exhaled like the air had been knocked out of him. “God. No, I didn’t. I’m so sorry.”
I watched the tension tighten his face. He was doing the math, deciding whether to listen to me or walk away.
“It’s not really my case anymore,” he said.
“You’re still listed as the detective.”
“On paper.” His voice lowered. “But the fact that you waited for me in the parking lot tells me you and I both know who’s really running the show.”
I nodded, stepped closer, and locked eyes with him. “I do. And that’s the problem. Because whatever my daughter is accused of, this is still the United States of America. And the last time I checked, she has rights. Including the right to be presumed innocent. And the right to a fair trial. Now tell me—has this trial been fair so far, Detective Nolan?”
He looked away.
I nodded. “That’s what I thought. Let me ask you something else. If you get into your car knowing all this, can you look in the mirror tonight and tell yourself you did the right thing? Maybe walking away from a mother asking the police to do their job isn’t that hard. I give you that. But what about thechance that the murderer is still out there? Getting away with murder. Maybe killing again.”
His sigh was heavy. But he was still torn.
“Do you …” My voice dropped as a pair of officers passed us, shooting curious glances as they greeted him. I waited for them to walk off.
“Do you remember that phone call? The one made to the police when you were little. About your father?”
He froze. “Oh no. Don’t do that. That’s below you.”
I laughed, dry and bitter. “Look at me. There isn’t much below me anymore. My family’s financially ruined, thanks to a shitty lawyer. The government’s blaming my daughter for something she didn’t do just to settle an old score. And my only child is dying in jail of cancer. So, no. Telling you it was me who called the police on your abusive father and saved you is not below me. Not anymore.”
He didn’t speak.
“Did you know that I lied for you back then?” I added.
“What?” His eyes widened.
I shrugged. “I sure did. I mean, I never saw your dad hit you. I never saw any of what I told the police back then. But I saw your mother’s bruises. And yours. I saw the fear in your eyes and the way you jumped at every little noise. I saw him grab her in the hallway before a parent-teacher conference and whisper something in her ear that made her cry.”
He stared at me, wide-eyed.
“So I lied and told the police that he hurt you in front of me during a home visit. I said he threatened to kill me if I ever told the police. That’s what finally got him arrested. And you all were able to leave.”
He stared at me for a moment, nodded once, then turned and walked to his SUV.
“Meet me at the Hot Mug” was all he said and climbed in.
I rushed back to my car and typed the name into my phone.
A soup and coffee shop not far from here.
When I arrived, I spotted him parked in one of the spots at the edge of the parking lot. He waited until I pulled up before he got out and jogged to my door. I unlocked it, and he climbed into the passenger seat.
“Thank you for doing this,” I said.
He nodded. Less bitter than I expected, considering I had just emotionally blackmailed him.
“Anything for my childhood savior,” he said with a trace of sarcasm. “But I honestly don’t know how I can help. Kara Belmont is running the investigation. Everything goes through the attorney general now. My name is just there for show.”
